


the sun must set to rise

by sirenofodysseus



Category: The Mentalist
Genre: Considerate Jane, Gen, Just everyone gets hurt and Mama Jane's there to soothe feathers, Team whump, h/c, on-the-job injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2018-09-02 23:15:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8687269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sirenofodysseus/pseuds/sirenofodysseus
Summary: Sometimes, she considers throttling him with her bare hands. Or four times the team has been injured on the job and Jane’s been there and one time that Jane’s been injured on the job and Lisbon’s been there for him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written to fulfill one of my H/C bingo squares: job-related trauma.

I.

 

            When Lisbon sprains her ankle (because of Jane’s stupidity), she’s grumpy for most of the first week. She glares at Rigsby, grimaces at Cho and absolutely despises Van Pelt’s looks of _pity_ whenever she hobbles past. Jane however (and as usual) keeps to his attic and works the case, alongside her unit without lip. He’s not well-behaved at _any_ cost and she’s still fielding phone calls about him deciding to bully the victim’s father into a confession, but he solves the case in _less than a week_ and jokingly, he even tosses her a giant red bow after he tells her how and why Jamie Kingsley murdered his daughter, Joanna.

            She stills thinks he’s an asshole at times, and sometimes, she _considers_ throttling him with her bare hands; but the silent apology of a bear claw and the cup of black coffee on her desk, the day after she’s been cleared for active duty again, makes her want to kill him a little less.

 

II.

 

            “Until Dr. Venison clears you, Rigsby,” Lisbon tells him, as she’s standing in his hospital room, “I’m afraid the PSU won’t let you back to work.” Rigsby grimaces at his boss and curses the procedures for an on-the-job injury; he feels the Professional Standards Unit would do _anything_ to keep him from returning to work, regardless of Dr. Venison’s reassurance that he’d be fine after they un-dislocated his shoulder. “Relax. Use this time off to catch up on reading or something.”

            Lisbon offers him the hospital room television remote and while watching reruns of _Law and Order_ , he falls asleep. When he wakes, hours later, Jane’s sitting in his bedside chair. The consultant is reading and Rigsby’s almost surprised to see him. He knows the consultant hates hospitals too.

            “Lisbon wanted me to make sure you weren’t rotting your brains out with all that mindless television,” Jane idly tells him, without glancing at him. Rigsby eyes Jane. “Are you hungry? I ended up asking Betsy, the night nurse to drop off every shade of Jell-O they had.” Jane motions toward the tray at the feet of Rigsby’s bed, where sure enough, there are at least ten different cups of Jell-O.

            Rigsby smiles at Jane. “Thanks, man.”

            “Don’t mention it.”

 

III.

 

            Grace thinks the Professional Standards Unit is one giant joke, especially after the death/murder of her ex-fiancé. She understands Agent LaRoche is just doing his job, but the demand of _200 hours in mandated-therapy_ is a bit much—considering her ex-fiancé, Craig O’Laughlin, worked for Red John and _tried_ to kill her, Agent Hightower and Agent Lisbon. The double-standard of being a female at the CBI isn’t lost on her, especially when Jane, Rigsby and Cho have _all_ faced down more life-and-death situations than she has—and they’ve never been forced onto a leather couch to discuss their feelings.

            It’s why she’s especially grateful when Jane calls her, fifteen minutes into her third session, and tells her he needs her. Although the therapist doesn’t believe her and attempts to guilt her into staying, she’s finally allowed to leave and she meets up with Jane for “important CBI things”. When in reality, they’re just going out to grab ice cream and discuss things completely unrelated to Craig O’Laughlin.

 

            “Thank you, Jane,” Grace tells him, after finishing her last bite of Rocky Road. He smiles at her.

 

 IV.

 

            Cho blinks at the bottle of painkillers, unimpressed, as the hospital doctor warns him of the dangers of addiction. His head is swimming and his back is absolutely killing him, but he does not intend to ever take the painkillers that he’s been given for relief. Jane’s waiting for him, all smiles, after he signs his discharge papers and is released into the hands of a “responsible caregiver” for at _least_ twenty-four hours. Cho’s a _little_ confused at the arrangement, considering he had told Lisbon he didn’t _need_ that caregiver. He had just been planning to spend a few quiet days in his apartment, without the headaches of the SCU (or Jane) to boot.

           

            “Lisbon said you refused her as your designated chaperone,” Jane tells him, after they’re both settled in Jane’s vehicle. “However, I didn’t think that was a good idea. You were, after all, just hit by a car.” Jane’s continued smile makes him grit his teeth, as he doesn’t need a constant reminder of the stupid car he’s been hit by.

            “I’m fine, Jane,”

            Jane rolls his eyes. “You’re coming home with me, or I’m coming home with you. I take my title as designated babysitter _very_ seriously.” And as Cho later learns, Jane’s not kidding. Like clockwork, he’s forced to take those damn painkillers _every six hours_ and Jane’s at his side, the moment that the painkillers make him loopy and nauseous. “You’ll thank me in a few hours, when you’re feeling _much_ better.”

            Cho grimaces. “Go away, Jane.”

            Jane chuckles at him. “You don’t _really_ want me to leave, do you?” Cho blinks twice, before he grimaces and leans back against the pillow. He _supposes_ Jane’s a good caregiver and it’s not like he’s leaving any time soon, since Jane kinda stole his car keys and the world is all _blurry_. “That’s what I thought.” Jane throws him a smug grin and Cho doubts it’s even _worth_ his energy to argue with the master manipulator. “Now, get some rest. You’ll return to your typical no-smiles self in no time at all.”

 

V.

 

            “You’re an idiot, you know,” Lisbon mutters to him, as the doctor fits him with a neck brace. Jane tries to keep his head steady, but the neck brace is uncomfortable and Jane’s never _actually_ been any good at following directions. He tries to offer her a smile but his face is still tender and well, he just feels like crap all over. A byproduct of doing a good deed, he supposes.

            “Somehow, this wasn’t what I had pictured when you volunteered to stay with me,” Jane tells her and he watches her roll her eyes. He had almost been unsurprised when Lisbon had pressed her way into the ambulance, or when she had stopped the FBI from questioning him on the whereabouts of Lorelei Martins. “I thought you’d bring me flowers, sing me a little song and…”

            “It’s not funny, Jane,” Lisbon interrupts quietly and Jane eyes her. “You _could_ have died.” He doesn’t say anything to her, until after the doctor excuses himself and he’s able to readjust himself to argue.

            “I didn’t though.”

            “But _what_ if you had?” She asks him and he eyes her. “If you had died, would it have been all worth it?” If Lorelei’s freedom had led them to Red John, he thinks it _would_ have been all worth it—but he doesn’t dare say it to Lisbon. “I can’t tell you what to do and I certainly can’t tell you how to think, because you’d never listen to me anyway.” Jane chuckles under his breath at Lisbon’s truthful remark. “But if you continue down this path, you’ll never celebrate another birthday.” Lisbon stands from her chair before he can respond. “I know you’re a lot smarter than what you did today.”

            “Whatever are you talking about, Lisbon?” Jane plays innocent and he watches as she excuses herself from the room. “I’ve done nothing wrong, aside from be given awful hospital food.” She turns herself around at the door and offers him a small, sad smile, before she disappears from his view.

 

            When he eventually returns to the CBI, he _half_ -expects a troublesome welcome from the team. Instead, he finds a perfectly prepared cup of tea on his couch and a blueberry muffin to boot.

 

            _Welcome back_ , reads the accompanying card in Lisbon’s messy hand. Jane can’t help but smile.


End file.
